


It has to do with Klingon... biology

by caro_10



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Ace Worf, Alien Biology, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, I am ace so my faves are too, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Touch-Starved, Whump, Worf's ponytail, but like ace kink, mostly just cuddling, not very sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-01-03 22:21:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21186923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caro_10/pseuds/caro_10
Summary: Will Riker goes to check up on his Chief Security Officer, who has been acting odd. He finds Worf sequestered in his quarters, miserable and in pain. Worf shares something deeply personal and Will proves he can extrapolate from incomplete data. Then there's cuddling.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M because of the ace kink just to be sure, but there is like, no sexy stuff  
also Worf is ace, despite any canon evidence to the contrary  
this doesn't really take place at any fixed point in the series, Alexander doesn't live with Worf (yet), but we do have the ponytail™ and I have wantonly made up some Klingon biology bullshit for my own nefarious purposes  
enjoy!

Will stepped off the bridge and into the turbolift with a well-deserved feeling of contentment. The last assignment had been difficult, but they’d all gotten through it and he’d just been granted some precious time off. Before the turbolift doors could close, Deanna slipped in.

“Will,” she looked worried, “I realize you’re off duty, but I was just trying to contact Lieutenant Worf, and he did not answer.”

“He took time off, I believe. Did he go down to the planet? I hear many officers are taking shore leave.”

Deanna shook her head. “No, I checked. He is still on the ship. And what I’m sensing from him is worrying. That is why I tried to contact him.”

“And he didn’t answer?”

That did sound serious.

“I know you’re looking forward to taking a break, but he always answers hails immediately and he must have a reason for not doing so now.”

“You’re right, that’s not like him at all. I’ll walk right over.”

Deanna smiled. “Thanks, Will.”

He smiled to reassure her, though he knew she could sense he didn’t feel it. “Deck nine.”

There is a limited number of things you can think about in the seconds the turbolift needs to get you where you’re going. And yet many unpleasant scenarios presented themselves to Will. He walked a tad faster than usual and found himself in front of Worf’s door in a deserted corridor. Good.

He pressed the display next to the door. Normally he’d hear a gruff “enter” before the chime had finished, but now there was only silence. He tried his combadge. “Riker to Lieutenant Worf.” More silence. He pressed the comm next to the door. “Mr. Worf, either you answer me or I’m using my override code.” The comm let out the soft rush of an active connection, but nothing else. Will tilted his ear to the wall and heard some strained mumbling. That was it. “Computer, engage override. Authority: Commander Riker.”

The door slid open and Riker took several long strides in. He half expected to see Worf bleeding out on the floor with a weapon sticking out of his chest, but there was no-one. Riker went around the corner into the sleeping area. There he was.

It looked like Worf had come home from a long night out to drunkenly pass out on his bed, boots kicked off and halfway undressed. Except for two things. One, Worf didn’t go out and get drunk, at least not on the ship. And two, he was conscious and clearly in pain.

Riker quickly walked to his side and checked for any obvious injuries. “Worf, did someone do this? Riker to sickb-”

“No!” Worf grabbed his wrist before Riker could tap his combadge.

“What do you mean ‘no’? You’re hurt, Worf!”

“I don’t,” he gasped, “need sickbay.” He was panting like he’d run a marathon. “I am not injured, Commander.”

“Well something is obviously wrong, _Lieutenant_.” Will spat. But he relented when Worf nearly broke his wrist and growled in pain.

Worf seemed to realize what he’d done, because he let go as if burned. “Commander,” he took a deep breath in through his nose. “I must… apologize. Truly, nothing is wrong.” Worf didn’t look up to see Riker’s skeptical look, but he must have felt it. “This is merely a… Klingon matter.”

Ah. Riker had encountered enough of those over the past years. Still, “you did this to yourself?” He sounded more incredulous and, well, appalled than he’d meant to.

Clearly, Worf had picked up on this as well as he softly growled through his teeth and carefully ground out: “It is not like the Age of Ascension ritual. It is a biological… process. I have no control over it. But I am not injured. Or ill.” He let out a deep sigh, and rolled onto his back, his shoulders relaxing somewhat. He was still panting with exertion though. Whatever was happening to him, it seemed to have let up for the moment.

Will rose from his position stooped over the bed and took in the situation.

His chief security officer, normally the paragon of stoic professionalism, was lying halfway down the bed, his legs over the end of the bed and his feet planted on the ground. He’d flung his uniform top on the floor and his black undershirt was badly rumpled. His hair tie had come mostly undone and some long strands laid over his chest. Also, in place of his uniform pants, he was wearing some kind of snug, soft looking number with slightly wider legs and a broad waist band that Will had never seen before. It didn’t leave much to the imagination.

Will quickly looked up into Worf’s face instead. Worf was staring up and away, as far away from Will as he could get without turning his head. So whatever it was had abated enough for him to be embarrassed.

Playing the stern commander wasn’t going to work here, so Will employed the other technique he often used on Worf: relentless teasing. He cleared his throat, pulled down his uniform, and jauntily settled himself at the head of the bed, careful to not sit on Worf’s hair. One hand placed next to Worf’s shoulder, he leaned over his lieutenant until they were face to face.

Worf had stopped panting, but Will could still feel the barest hint of breath on his face. He did his best shit-eating grin, coupled with innocent puppy eyes for plausible deniability. Softly, he said: “So, Worf, this is how you like to spend your free time?” The growl he got in response lacked its usual intensity, but he’d definitely gotten under his skin. “Because when I lie down like that, I’m usually not in pain. Quite the opposite actually.”

Worf let out a humorless snort.

Will became more serious. “You suddenly took leave, locked yourself in your quarters, and didn’t answer any messages. Can you blame me for barging in?”

This seemed to sink in. Worf deflated a little. The fact that he hadn’t raised his voice or done that clipped, held back version of raising his voice, told Will that he’d really been in pain.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

Worf opened his mouth and hesitated. He looked away, seemingly trying to find the words to express himself. “It is the _poH puj_. It is something Klingon males go through every year. I do not believe there is a human equivalent. It is a painful process that has to do with reproduction. It lasts for some days and is deeply private, usually only witnessed by one’s mate.” Here he briefly looked at Will. “This is why I sequestered myself.”

Will simply nodded. He realized that he’d embarrassed Worf by coming in unasked, but he wouldn’t apologize for following the only logical course of action. “Why didn’t you ask for medical leave? You would only have needed to tell Dr Crusher and she would have kept it to herself.”

“It is not something that is shared lightly, especially with non-Klingons. This time makes one… weak.”

The last word was barely audible, but it was enough for Will to understand. Damn Klingon pride.

“And of course any kind of painkillers or other help-”

“No, one is expected to go through it unaided, except for any… comfort provided by one’s mate.”

“You seem to be doing okay now. Is it over?”

Worf folded his arms over his stomach. “No, it only just began. I shall be… indisposed for about two days more. The pain comes and goes in waves.”

Will let out an awed ‘pffff’ and leaned back against the bulkhead. “That sounds rough.”

He thought for a bit. “When you say ‘comfort’ do you mean…?”

Worf looked about ready to sink through the bed into an alternate dimension, but he answered dutifully. “That is an option. But the most important factor is skin-to-skin contact.”

“And you need to be mated?”

“That is how it is traditionally done. However, more casual arrangements are often accepted these days.”

“Yet you chose to go through it alone?” Even if Will wasn’t predisposed to ‘casual arrangements’, he would have picked any willing attractive person to not have to go through what he’d seen Worf go through.

“There was no choice for me. There are no other Klingons on board, or on the planet.”

“Yes, but there are many other people. It wouldn’t be hard for you to find somebody.”

Worf’s eyes widened in surprise, but he remained silent.

Normally Will would say something like this to flirt, but he was completely sincere. Worf might need some time to warm up to people (and even then he didn’t always), but he was plenty attractive and the thing they were talking about didn’t exactly hinge on mutual adoration. If it helped that much, surely he could find someone to spend some time with? Well, unless…

“Unless your arrangements are strictly Klingon-only.”

Worf minutely shook his head. “I am simply not interested in anything casual.”

Will sat up a bit in interest. “Don’t tell me, Worf, are you secretly a romantic?” He meant it as purely teasing, but Worf seemed to take the question to heart. He frowned up at the ceiling, deep in thought.

“Worf, I was just joking. Your sex life is really none of my business.”

“I realize that.” Worf didn’t specify which part of Will’s implicit apology he meant. Then, in an uncharacteristic moment, he added: “It reminded me of something that is on my mind often lately.”

Will didn’t want to discourage Worf in a sharing mood, seriously, the man never talked about his private thoughts or feelings outside of Klingon honor. But when nothing more was forthcoming he hedged a casual, encouraging, “oh?”.

“I considered finding a,” he hesitated, searching for the right word, “a companion for this time. But I am a private person. And previous encounters were unsatisfactory.” He pulled down his shirt and stuck his chin out, as if to regain composure after sharing his feelings with a man who was, after all, his superior officer.

But Will hoped that after the years they’d spent together, all the away missions and near-misses, that they had become friends as well. “There’s nothing wrong with that you know, wanting more than just a casual couple of days.”

Worf mumbled, “Not more”, but it didn’t seem to be addressed at Will. That didn’t stop him though.

“You didn’t like it at all?”

The question seemed to surprise Worf. “How could I not like it? It was everything I’d heard about.” He was quiet for some time.

Will sensed he needed some time to think, and took the opportunity to sprawl a bit further over the bed, putting his legs up next to Worf and folding his arms behind his head.

Worf sat up rather suddenly, at the end of the bed, his back to Will. He hunched in on himself. Then he said, quietly, “I didn’t like it.”

“The sex?” Will regretted saying it as soon as it left his mouth, that was way too direct.

But it didn’t seem to deter Worf. “Yes. But that is a part of courtship. Of mating.”

Will pursed his lips. “Not necessarily. At least for humans it’s not.”

Worf absentmindedly brushed a lock of hair back. “I am not human.” It didn’t sound offended or reprimanding, but almost wistful.

Will was casting around for something helpful to say, but before he’d found it, Worf stood up, fixed his clothes and resolutely walked over to the replicator. He ordered a glass of water, downed it in one gulp, and immediately ordered another. Without really turning around, he held out the glass to Will in a silent offer.

“Yes, please.”

Worf brought both glasses back to the bed and put them on the little shelf against the bulkhead. He sat down, in the middle of the bed this time, and rubbed a hand over his face.

Will didn’t often see him so vulnerable and supposed it was simply part of the phase Worf was going through. He leaned over and put a hand on Worf’s shoulder. “You know you don’t have to want that kind of closeness, right? You have colleagues and friends here, you don’t need to be in a relationship.”

Under his hand, Worf had frozen completely. “That’s not it.”

Piecing together all the little pieces of information Worf had told him, Will tried to make a complete picture. Oh. “You don’t want anything casual. But you do want something non-casual. Without-”

“Yes.” Worf shrugged him off. His face hardened. Maybe Will had pried too much.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“I apologize. I am being too personal-”

They had spoken at the same time, and both waved off each other’s apology.

Suddenly, Worf sat back with a groan. He wrapped his arms around his belly and hunched over.

“Worf? Is it back? What do you need?” He carefully helped Worf lay down, properly this time, and brushed his hair back out of his face.

Worf shivered.

“Are you cold?” Will reached for the blanket that lay discarded on the floor, but Worf shook his head.

Worrying about a possible fever, Will put the back of his hand against Worf’s face. It was warm, but not fever-hot. Yet he shuddered under his touch. Comfort. Unsatisfactory. Will had a moment of clarity. He sat on his knees by the bed, so they were at the same height. He gently cupped Worf’s face. It was clear that the pain was coming back. He looked him in the eyes and said, urgently, but with a mischievous grin: “Mr. Worf, I have a proposal.” Worf looked at him and made a questioning noise. “I propose a… casual arrangement. Of a purely non-sexual nature.”

Worf made a face Will had never seen before. Hopeful, grateful, a bit disbelieving. “You don’t have to, Com-” His face clouded over and he gripped the wrist of the hand on his face.

If Will wasn’t sure of his spontaneous decision before, he was now. “I want to, Worf,” he smiled, “and call me ‘Will’. But I need you to tell me what you need.”

Worf moved his hand over Will’s. “This. Will.”

Heart seizing, Will gently pulled his hand back and rounded the bed to climb behind Worf. He pulled his overshirt over his head and stripped off his trousers and boots. In just his undershirt and boxers, he curled around him, brushed Worf’s hair away from his shoulder and laid his head down. One arm under his neck, one over his waist.

Worf let out a shuddering sigh and then tensed, growling deep in his throat. Will could feel it more than hear it. “Is there nothing else I can do?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Worf reached for Will’s hand and moved it down to his abdomen, which had a slight bump. With his hand pressed flat, Will could feel how firm and tight Worf’s belly was. That must be a large part of what was bothering him so much. He began to softly rub circles over the swell.

Worf basically melted back into him.

Will buried his nose in the hair over Worf’s ear. “Is that better?”

The pleased rumble he got in return was almost inaudible.

Still, he had to ask. “Is this… how it’s supposed to be? Does it go away on its own?”

He’s stopped rubbing unconsciously and Worf nodded quickly in response to his question, then moved Will’s hand back, under the waistband this time.

“Here, let me.” Will gently pulled the waistband down to Worf’s pubic bone, rolled back a bit and guided Worf with him. Half lying down, half sitting up, he propped the pillow under his back and let Worf’s head rest on his chest. Then he moved both hands around Worf’s torso, under his arms, and began to gently rub again. “How’s the pain?”

“Gone.”

He smiled into Worf’s hair. “Good.”

Carefully smoothing his hands over the taut, warm skin, Will quickly picked up on what moves got him the best reaction. Cupping his hands low across Worf’s abdomen, gently stroking with his thumbs. Broad, lazy strokes up and down, from his stomach to the edge of the waistband. Gentle circles over the very top of the bump. He settled on a combination of stroking up and down and in circles. A nearly imperceptible rumbling noise sounded like it came from Worf’s chest.

“Say, Worf?”

“Mmph?”

“I didn’t know Klingons could purr.”

There was no reaction to the undignified suggestion, other than a small huff.

Worf’s breathing eased, became slower and deeper, and Will realized he was about to be slept on by a man that was at least his size, if not bigger and heavier. The prospect didn’t daunt him in the slightest.

* * *

Worf woke up to an unfamiliar feeling. He was enveloped in a warm embrace, on his side, a body pressed tightly against his back.

Will.

The events of the night before came rushing back. He braced himself for the shame and weakness. But none came. Instead, he was comfortable, and comforted. The bone-deep tiredness from yesterday was gone, as was the allover ache he’d felt. His belly was still tight and uncomfortable, but he no longer felt the need to curl around himself and wish for unconsciousness.

Behind him, Will was dead asleep. He snored softly and his hand, the one not trapped under Worf, was still gently cradling his belly. Carefully trying to maneuver off his companion’s arm, Worf held Will’s hand with his and turned onto his back.

Without waking up, Will crawled in closer, his head on Worf’s shoulder, his arm slung over his chest. Worf turned his head, looked into the face of the man who, before yesterday, had been only his superior officer, and a tentative friend. Today, he felt a connection he hadn’t felt before in a long time. And he hadn’t needed to offer himself up to get here. This was a kind of intimacy he hadn’t even realized he’d been craving. Baring his soul left him unburdened, but also a bit unmoored. It was a good thing the solid weight of Will’s arm was grounding him in reality.

He enjoyed the closeness and the brief respite of the all-consuming pain. All too soon, he felt Will stir beside him. A big yawn and some incoherent mumbling in his ear, Will clearly didn’t realize where he was. Worf could tell the moment he fully woke up, a minute tensing in his body. Worf felt himself tense as well.

Then Will relaxed fully and drew his head up to look him in the eyes. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Will chuckled and leaned back to stretch his legs. “How’re you doing?”

Worf did a quick assessment. Physically, he was mostly fine. The worst had passed, but he would still be fatigued and sore today. Mentally, he didn’t know. The easy contentment he felt had given way to uncertainty.

That much must have seemed obvious to Will, who dragged his knuckles down Worf’s cheek. “Your temperature is down. Here, you should drink something.”

He pushed himself up and leaned over to the other side of the bed to grab one of the water glasses that was still there. Worf pushed himself up on his elbows and gratefully emptied the proffered glass. Will gulped down his own water and put the two glasses back. He had to lean over Worf to do so, bracketing him in with his arms. The glasses were put back where they belonged, but Will stayed where he was. They were basically nose to nose.

Worf couldn’t look away from those intense blue eyes, crinkled at the edges in a smile. Worf felt his eyes move down to Will’s lips in spite of himself. And before he could drag his eyes back up he was being kissed.

It wasn’t the kind of impatient, messy kiss, that was just a stop on the way to more. But it was just as urgent and passionate. His eyes fell shut and he kissed back instinctively. They shouldn’t. He felt amazing. With the greatest difficulty, he pulled back. He couldn’t look at Will’s beaming face and pushed his nose into his shoulder instead. A hand came up to rub between his shoulder blades, which he realized where tightly drawn together. He consciously relaxed and managed to say: “Is this part of the casual arrangement?”

Will chuckled wryly. “Honestly, the casual part started to crumble when you said my name.”

Worf’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. Miserably, he rumbled, “Will”. The hand on his back became a fist in his hair, as he was hauled upward and kissed all over his face. He threw both arms around Will and squeezed him so hard he thought he heard bones pop. Why hadn’t they done this years ago? Oh, right. All the obstacles fell back into place. They served together. Will was his superior officer. Will liked to… and he didn’t.

As he came back to reality, he became acutely aware of all the pains in his body, and how he definitely wasn’t back to fighting fit just yet. He leaned back against the bulkhead, both arms wrapped around his abdomen, and, in an unguarded childish moment, wished he could stay in this moment forever. Suddenly, he was acutely aware of how hard it would be to go back to his normal everyday routine, now he knew what he knew. That Will cared about him. That he liked to be held, and that it didn’t make him feel weak or pathetic. That Will’s lips were soft and warm. He felt himself start to panic, and that realization only made him panic more. This was why he didn’t do this. Didn’t do closeness.

But before he could spiral, he was pulled down, into Will’s lap, chest to chest, legs crossed behind each other’s back, head down on his shoulder, arms wrapped around. To his surprise, Will was trembling too.

“I guess neither of us really planned for this, huh?” Will pulled Worf’s hair over his left shoulder and leaned down to kiss the exposed side of his neck.

Worf focused on continuing to breathe. In the last twelve hours, he had felt happier and more miserable than he had done, well, ever. That, and the physical changes he was going through, made him dumbly gasp for air.

The same cramps started again and he sagged against Will, his painful belly pressed against the warm, solid body before him. He wasn’t used to feeling small, but he felt tiny, just trying to breathe through the pain.

“I’m not letting you go.” Will had spoken to comfort him, but his words weren’t soothing. They were resolute, unshakable. A promise.

Worf sighed like it was punched out of him. As so often, he couldn’t put words to his feelings. He just put everything in the only thing he could think to say, “Will”.

“Yeah”, said Will. “It’s all going to be okay.”

Worf believed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!  
concrit welcome  
working on an epilogue, but not sure where I want to go from here yet, so I've marked the fic completed
> 
> edit 06-02-20:  
I've fixed some typos and other issues and I'm almost finished with the second and final chapter! I hope to publish it sometime next week.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so first of all, this is my first time watching TNG and I wrote the first chapter after I'd just started season six, and as it turns out, I accidently replicated the first scene of Rightful Heir? Good to know Will doesn't need Deanna to immediately go into Worf Is Dying Mode™.

Will was used to Worf's stubbornness after a year together. What he had not yet gotten used to were the consequences of that stubbornness. Which is how he found himself on an away mission in a cell with a mostly unconscious Klingon, an unresponsive shuttle somewhere in the jungle, and no way of contacting the _ Enterprise _ through the heavy ion distortion. He spared a brief thought for what could have been. 

* * *

Ever since Will had learned that Worf's 'Klingon matter' reoccurred yearly, he had both dreaded and looked forward to the next instance. 

Worf seemed disinclined to speak of the whole affair, though he did explain how these Klingon heat cycles worked. 

Freshly reminded of all the pain Worf had gone through, Will made a silent promise that this time would be different. 

'Commander,' Worf relented at Will's sardonic look, 'Will. I do not wish to discuss the _ poH puj _ with anyone.' 

'And I do not want my boyfriend to suffer if I can do anything about it.' 

'I am not a _ boy _-' 

'No, you're a man. That's why we're talking about this. So, let me tell the Captain that we need some days off.' 

Worf crossed his arms and frowned down at his feet, like he was thinking of an excuse, any excuse, to not have to share his private business with the captain. 

Will stepped into his personal space and casually hung his arms over Worf’s shoulders, leaning back as far as possible to look at his boyfriend's face. He could see the moment Worf realised he wasn't getting out of this. 

'I will inform the captain.' 

'Do you want me to go with you? After all, I'll need some days off too.' 

Worf finally looked him in the eye. 

'You will stay with me?' 

Will leaned in for a quick kiss. 'Of course I will.' 

Worf unfolded his arms and put them around Will, putting his nose underneath Will's ear and inhaling deeply. 'Thank you.' 

* * *

The talk with Captain Picard was exactly as awkward as Will had thought it would be. Worf and the captain shared their professional, formal air, so Will spent five minutes listening to Worf haltingly explain the situation and Picard trying to understand it all without learning any more details than strictly necessary. His look when Worf requested leave for both of them told Will he’d already heard more than he’d wanted to. 

After they’d left the captain’s ready room, Will couldn’t hold in his amused grin, earning him a glare from Worf which in turn made him laugh out loud. He couldn’t stop chuckling all the way back to Worf’s quarters, earning him a playful pinch on the neck from his ruefully smiling boyfriend. 

Still, with that out of the way, there was nothing stopping them from having a lovely few days lying in bed, not doing much of anything. 

* * *

The thing between them was still new and they had each kept their own quarters, because Will understood Worf’s need for privacy and a place to unwind. Yet, as the date Will had put into his computer neared, he found himself spending more time with Worf than usual. They were usually on shift together, and they spent time together off shift, but Will had not slept in his own bed for a solid week when he realized that he was feeling unusually protective and clingy. 

He came to this realization lying on Worf’s couch with a padd in his hand and one leg over the backrest. ‘Worf.’ 

Worf looked up from his _ bat’leth _ and whetstone. 

‘Is your _ poH puj _ near?’ 

Will immediately regretted his question when Worf nearly dropped his razor-sharp weapon. Apparently, the topic was still a touchy one. Although Will had to hand it to him, Worf was getting more comfortable talking to him about the things that mattered. 

‘I am… feeling the first signs, yes. But I expect the actual phase will not start for a week.’ 

Will rolled off the couch and walked over to Worf’s chair. He carefully pushed aside the arm that was holding the _ bat’leth _. 

Worf got the hint and hung the weapon back on its stand. 

Will draped himself in the vacated space on Worf’s lap, dragging a hand over his hair to rest on the nape of his neck, and pulled his head aside. 

Worf’s pleased rumble became a full-on growl when Will bit down on the tendon leading down from his ear to his clavicle. 

Will let up before he could cause any visible marks and instead slipped a hand under Worf’s shirt, stroking up his stomach. He lifted his head to whisper directly into Worf’s ear, hidden beneath his hair. ‘A week, huh? Maybe it’s my imagination, but I’m feeling something too.’ 

One of Worf’s hands was gripping his upper thigh, holding him up, and the other was scrabbling up his back, grabbing his uniform top. Yet he went completely still after Will spoke. 

‘Worf? Did I say something wrong?’ 

‘No, I was… I am merely gratified to know you are… affected as well.’ 

Will drew back to look him in the eye, not bothering to hide his besotted smile. 

Worf took advantage of the opportunity to hook a finger in the collar of Will’s uniform and draw it down to expose his collarbone to Worf’s teeth. Will gasped, Worf had no qualms about leaving marks, and biting was a part of Klingon courtship, sex or no. 

When it was starting to actually hurt, Will dragged Worf’s head back by his ponytail and kissed him, long and slow. ‘I can’t wait to spend this time with you. I am going to hold you and kiss you and rub your belly until you can’t do anything but-’ 

His combadge chirped. 

‘Senior officers to the observation lounge.’ 

Biting back a sigh, Will tapped his combadge to acknowledge. 

* * *

The planet they were orbiting was in political turmoil following the death of the emperor and subsequent assassination of one of the three heirs to the empire. A frazzled diplomat begged Captain Picard to host the two other heirs on the _ Enterprise _, as they were either a danger to each other, or at risk of being killed by a third party. 

Picard rose from his chair to stand right in front of the viewscreen. ‘I understand your predicament, ambassador. The _ Enterprise _ will do everything it can to prevent a civil war. As soon as the ion storms let up, we will be able to beam up the heirs and their attendants.’ 

The ambassador was openly wringing his hands. ‘Captain, we appreciate your help, but I am afraid that if we do not secure the heirs now, it will be too late.’ 

Picard looked over to where Data was sitting at the helm. ‘Mister Data, would it be possible to send in a shuttle for each of the heirs?’ 

Data tapped on the viewer in front of him, running numbers. ‘I believe so, Captain. There should be some distortion, enough to make communications unreliable, but not enough to interfere with shuttle engines or navigation.’ 

Picard ignored Data’s human formulation of his professional opinion and turned around to send his Number One a meaningful look. 

Will was already out of his chair. ‘Worf, Data, you’re with me, call an additional security officer to shuttle bay four.’ 

Within minutes, two shuttles had departed for the planet below. 

Piloting the shuttle through the distortion was a challenge, Will quickly learned. Beside him, Worf was trying to maintain contact with both Data and his ensign in the other shuttle, and the _ Enterprise _. The connection went from spotty to incomprehensible, until he could only make out that Data was still on course. 

He turned to Will to say- The shuttle alarm went off. 

‘Something wrong,’ Will said, unnecessarily. The entry into the atmosphere was bumpy, and they seemed to be gaining speed, until their descent was more of a free fall than anything else. 

Trying to bring back the controls was impossible, no matter what Worf tried. He warned Will that he’d have to land the shuttle manually. 

The determined set of Will’s jaw told Worf he’d already counted on that eventuality. The ground was coming at them faster than their eyes could track, he pulled up at the last moment, a crash, then, nothing. 

* * *

Slowly regaining consciousness, Worf immediately felt a jolt of adrenaline seeing the dark interior of the shuttle, the backup lighting filling the space with an eerie glow. He needed a minute to let his eyes adjust after seeing nothing but bright displays, but he did not waste a moment checking on Will. 

A low groan told him the most important thing, and Will’s eyes said the rest. ‘You all right?’ 

Worf nodded and gingerly rose from his seat. ‘You?’ 

Will nodded too, sitting upright and poking at the controls. 

The backup door mechanism still worked. Worf cautiously looked out… 

…and immediately dove aside as he was met with a dozen phaser rifles. 

* * *

Will paced the length of his cell, looking for weaknesses in the forcefield for the third time this hour. No weak spots presented themselves, and he lowered himself onto the cot in the corner. From the opposite cell, he could hear Worf seething about being taken prisoner. Being locked up for four hours had not made him less angry, though Will could see he was beginning to tire himself out. 

He was about to tell Worf to spare his energy, but the door to the corridor that separated their cells slid open. 

It revealed three aliens, all clearly natives to the planet, two guards and one dressed in a fancy uniform that indicated some high rank within the royal family, Will guessed from his limited knowledge of these people. The official motioned for the guards to stand at the door and turned to Will. ‘I am a representative of Prince Aldaes’ personal staff and have been appointed to oversee the return of our kidnapped prince, his brother.’ 

Will sat up on the cot. ‘Kidnapped?’ 

The official’s lip curled softly at Will’s lack of deference. ‘At 14:00 hours today, a Federation shuttle landed outside the capital, took aboard the prince, and returned to the Federation star ship currently in orbit around our planet. Another shuttle crashed further away, and its occupants were apprehended, as you well know.’ He spared a brief glance at Worf, and looked back at Will with a look of contempt on his face. 

‘So, it was Prince Aldaes who killed his brother.’ Will came over to lean against the wall, face as close to the force field as possible. ‘And now Starfleet has saved the remaining one, you have been sent to get him back.’ 

‘How dare you speak these accusations!’ The representative pulled his swishing cloak tighter about him, as if to protect himself from Will’s words. ‘Prince Aldaes is the oldest brother and the rightful heir, and once he is inaugurated, he will- Never mind, all you I need from you is your name and rank, so we know what we have to negotiate with.’ 

‘Captain Picard won’t trade us for the prince, Starfleet doesn’t negotiate with criminals.’ 

The alien’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t let himself waver: ‘Name and rank. Yours and the… Klingon’s.’ 

Again, he spoke with obvious distaste, and Will was hating him more and more. Still, it wasn’t a secret and he supplied the information, including Worf’s. 

Satisfied, the official glided out of the room, taking the two guards with him. 

As soon as the door closed, Worf wheeled around. ‘He dares to use us as bargaining chips. The captain will not negotiate with him. He should execute us so we may die with honor.’ 

‘He won’t. But at least we know Data made it back with the last prince. And that Aldaes is to blame for this mess. His political influence is small, hence the need to kill his brothers, so we should just wait until the _ Enterprise _ and the emperor’s staff have caught the traitor so they can free us.’ 

‘And sit here doing nothing?’ 

‘I’m afraid there’s not much else to do, these cells are solid. They’re pretty much the same ones we got in our brig.’ 

Worf nodded unhappily. 

‘Besides,’ Will continued, ‘we’re safe, and we’re being treated well. Might as well sit back and relax.’ 

Worf made a face that Will recognized as an odd combination of disagreeing, embarrassed and stubborn. 

Will took in his slightly hunched posture. 

‘Worf.’ His tone was questioning, but he had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly what was going on. 

Worf stayed silent. 

‘Worf, how bad is it?’ 

Shrugging his shoulders, Worf sighed deeply. ‘The pain is bearable now, but it will get progressively worse in the coming hours.’ 

‘And we’re separated by two force fields.’ 

Their eyes met. Will saw how miserable Worf was and spared a thought for how they could have been spending this time. 

* * *

Worf had gone from agitated pacing, to leaning against the wall, to sitting hunched over on his cot with his arms around his middle, when an alien entered bearing two trays of food. 

Will jumped up from where he’d been sitting on the floor. ‘My friend is in pain; you need to contact the _ Enterprise _ and tell them…’ He stopped when the alien shook his head with an amused laugh. 

He shoved the tray through some force field lock mechanism and turned around. ‘Surely you don’t think I’ll fall for that.’ He shoved Worf’s tray through with his foot and turned to leave again. 

‘Wait! If you can’t... then put me in his cell, I won’t try anything, I promise.’ 

The alien looked at Will consideringly. He moved closer to the cell, looking Will in the eyes. ‘You want me to put you with that _ Klingon _? You do know that they’re a savage warrior race, right? And this one’s looking especially murderous.’ 

Worf didn’t help their case by biting out a curse in Klingon, though Will couldn’t fault him for it what with the alien’s attitude. Still, he had to stay polite. ‘I will be fine, just transfer me to the other cell.’ 

Clearly weighing the pros and cons, the alien waited a moment, then took out a weapon and pointed it at Will. ‘Fine, I will briefly lower the force field. Behave, or I’m stunning you.’ He tapped a display in the wall and the force field disappeared. 

Will walked through the frame where it had been and up to Worf’s cell. The alien followed without lowering his weapon and deactivated the other force field only for an instant, slamming the display as soon as Will went through. 

Will immediately kneeled before Worf’s cot, so he could look up into his face. Worf had a pinched look that clearly indicated pain, but his eyes were clear and he didn’t look feverish, as he had a year ago. Will put a hand on each knee and rubbed soothing circles. 

A disappointing sigh came from outside the cell. ‘So this is what Klingon warriors are like? I was kind of hoping to see a fight.’ 

Worf’s head whipped up and he let out a fierce battle cry. 

The alien dropped his weapon with a yelp, and swiped it back off the floor without slowing down from his sprint towards the exit. 

Worf lowered his head with a satisfied quirk to his mouth. Then he hissed, and leaned his head forward until it rested on his arms. Will put a soothing hand on his neck and brought their heads together. In a quiet voice, he said: ‘The _ Enterprise _ is coming. It can’t take much longer now. And I’ll be here with you the whole time.’ 

Worf didn’t reply, he didn’t need to. 

Carefully, Will rearranged them on their sides, Worf facing the wall, Will’s back to the corridor. He found himself murmuring reassuring nonsense in Worf’s ear. His hand snaked under Worf’s arm to pull at his uniform, and Worf shifted to let him touch the smooth skin of his lower belly. 

Being let past the barriers Worf always had up never failed to make Will’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest. Especially here, in a dangerous situation, Worf trusted him to keep them safe. The need to express all this was almost unbearable, but this was not the place to do it. There would be plenty of time back on the_ Enterprise_. 

He pushed all thoughts away and focused on the physical sensations, Worf’s deep breathing, the tickle of hair against his face, the smooth, warm, distended abdomen under his hand. 

A flash of guilt went through him. Worf should never have come on this mission in the first place. He was too self-sacrificing for his own good. And Will was his superior and the only person on the ship who knew exactly what was going on with him. He should have stopped him. A grunt made him realize he had tightened his arm around Worf and he had to consciously relax. 

‘Sorry.’ 

A ‘hmm’ was his only reply, reminding him of how much pain Worf must still be in. 

‘I mean, for all of this.’ 

‘Why? You didn’t know of the trap.’ 

‘Because I let you go on this mission in the first place.’ Anger flared up in him. ‘Because we should be in a comfortable bed on the _ Enterprise _ by now, safe.’ 

Worf grabbed the hand that was still on his belly and pulled it away so he could turn onto his back. Then he gave a hard tug. 

Will barely kept himself from toppling onto his boyfriend. A hand came up to cradle his head and he looked up into the warm brown eyes staring intently at him. 

‘Will, you are not to blame,’ Worf spoke slowly and emphatically, ‘you acted on the available knowledge, just as I did.’ Pressing a brief kiss to Will’s ear, he added: ‘The pain has never come on this quickly, but it has also never been this mild.’ 

The knot in Will’s stomach began to ease, helped by the kisses and nips all over his face. ‘Wait, you’re saying there’s less pain than last time.’ 

‘Less pain than ever.’ 

Rolling onto his side, Will put his hand back on Worf’s belly. It was warm, tight, and had a noticeable bump that fit perfectly under Will’s hand. ‘Feels the same as last time. What’s the difference?’ His eyes caught Worf’s and he was momentarily thrown by the depth of the emotion he saw there. Worf breathed in, about to speak. Their commbadges beeped. 

Overwhelming relief mingled with some disappointment and curiosity. Will tapped his badge. 

Captain Picard’s voice rang through clearly. It was the best sound Will had ever heard. ‘Number One, Mister Worf, come in.’ 

‘We’re here. Two to beam directly to Sickbay.’ 

* * *

They materialized in a private room. Apparently, the Captain had picked up on Will's subtle request. Pulling Worf with him, he stood up. Brief eye contact communicated that they were both all right. 

The tell-tale _ whoosh _ of the door opening made them both turn. Picard walked in with Dr Crusher in tow. Will felt Worf stiffen beside him, but he willingly let himself be scanned. Dr Crusher frowned at the readout but didn't comment. Will shot her a grateful smile. She returned to stand beside Picard. 

'No lasting effects, only slight dehydration and fatigue.' 

Picard nodded. 'I see. Gentlemen, I suggest you take two days' rest, I will receive your briefing after.' 

Will smiled and Worf uttered a 'yes, sir'. Then they all left, Dr Crusher and Picard back to their stations, and Will and Worf to their quarters. As soon as the turbolift doors closed behind them, Worf sagged into Will's embrace, more than ready to spend the next two days there. 

* * *

A sudden increase in light woke Worf up. He blearily opened one eye and slammed it shut again. Will had turned up the light to find his way to the replicator, and was even humming a tune. There was no way he'd go back to sleep. Bowing to the inevitable, Worf rolled onto his back to take stock. He'd slept off the exhaustion, but still felt painfully bloated. Still, the all-consuming cramps were gone and his head felt clear. He slung one warm over his face to block out the light and pressed one to his abdomen to alleviate the tightness. 

Shuffling footsteps told him Will was on his way back. Two mugs were set down on the bedside table. Worf waited for the telltale dip of the mattress to roll over onto Will and go back to sleep, his partner's wakefulness be damned. But it didn't come. Instead, the hand over his belly was knocked away and he felt Will's hand on his hips. Worf gasped. Will's beard tickled over the taut skin exposed above his waistband. 

Despite being together for a year now, feeling vulnerable while Will gave attention to this part of him never ceased to make him breathe hard, both arms over his face now, while Will pressed kisses all over his belly. 

Will rucked up his shirt to access more skin, without even looking up from what he was doing. 'So,' a kiss, 'Worf,' another one, 'you said things are,' he let up, 'different, this time?' 

Worf processed the question a few seconds late and only grunted noncommittally. 

'Different than last time.' 

Worf could still feel warm breath on his skin, and he was trying his hardest to string a coherent thought together. 

'Different than all the times before.' As he said it, Will climbed up the bed, putting his hands on either side of Worf's head. 

Worf lifted his arms over his head and looked up into Will's smiling face. It felt a bit like looking into the sun, and not just because of the lights. He hooked his leg over Will's back and flipped them over. Used to being tossed around, it only made Will laugh, and Worf used the distraction to drag his nose under Will's jaw and into the hollow under his ear. 'You felt it.' Worf had too, even before Will practically moved in. 'I didn't know it worked that way for humans too. But we've been close enough.' 

Will draped himself over his boyfriend, leaving Worf no choice but to sit back, and let Will climb fully into his lap, until they were chest to chest, like a year ago. He raised a questioning eyebrow. 

'It is usual for mated Klingons to be... affected by their mate's_ poH __puj_. I did not expect you to be able to feel the effects so strongly, and after only a year.' Worf would have said more, but his breath was taken away by one of the most passionate kisses Will had ever given him. 

When they both needed to come up for air, Will gently cradled Worf's face in his hands. 'I love you.' 

'I love you too.' 

'We've come a long way, huh?' Will leaned his head on Worf's shoulder and chuckled. 'Promise me we'll get shore leave next year, as soon as you feel anything. No assassinations, no crashes, no cells, just the two of us.'

'I promise.'

'Although I guess I'll be able to tell. All of last week, I just couldn't stand to be apart from you. I don't think I've been in my own quarters for more than the minute it takes to get my uniform.' Leaning back, Will smiled the smile Worf loved the most: big grin, soft eyes, with a twinkle in them. It made him feel brave. 'It seems we don't need separate quarters. We might as well m-mmph!'

He didn't get to ask the question, but Will kissing him was answer enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter caused me to google 'bat'leth' and I have since discovered that people have used replicas in armed robberies, also it is illegal to own an actual metal bat'leth, imagine you're just going about your day and some dude brandishes a Nerd Weapon at you
> 
> I'll leave the fic at this, but I've already got more Worf/Riker in the works!  
Thank you for reading this one!


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